


Lucky

by Jesna22



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, POV Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 11:41:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesna22/pseuds/Jesna22
Summary: The last moments of The Last Jedi, from Ben's POV





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Wars, Disney, or Lucas Films. I am using these characters without permission.

"I'll destroy her, and you, and all of it." I'd vowed, the words tasting like lies even as they came off of my tongue. I'd never be able to fight her, or even raise a hand to her. That's why I'd fought so hard to pry my grandfather's lightsaber from her grasp. I knew, as soon as she used the Force to take it from me, that if she had it, and she left, she'd be my enemy. And, ultimately, my downfall. Because I'd destroy myself before I destroyed her.   
Even Luke knew I was a liar, shaking his head and saying "No."   
I charged, feeling knee wobbling relief when I thought I'd actually killed him, and gut wrenching terror when I turned around to find him standing behind me, still in one piece.   
It was then that I realized he'd sacrificed himself to confront me once last time. And, not because he loved or cared for me, as an uncle, or, hell, even a master should do, but he did it to give Poe and the other rebels a headstart to get away from me and my forces. Or, what was left of them.   
I shut my eyes against the painful memory. Not because half of my army was dead or destroyed, but because the ship had been split in two when the Force split the lightsaber. When I'd offered everything I had to Rey, and she'd refused. It felt as if I'd been split, too.   
Hux followed me into the crumbling rebel base until I motioned for him to stand back, and I didn't miss the daggers he stared into me, I just chose to ignore him. Wasn't the first, and wouldn't be the last.   
While Hux wasn't the strongest or smartest of the pack, he had the patience to deal with the troops that I didn't and the ruthlessness needed to train them to follow me. Supreme Leader.   
My skin crawled.   
I'd worked my life for this title. I'd just killed for it, and offered the blood soaked throne to my...my what? Not my anything.   
The command room was empty, as I suspected, but a glint of gold caught my eye.   
I bent down, and picked up the dice that had been dipped in gold and strung together.   
I'd known these dice for as long as I could remember. They were Han's lucky dice. The dice he'd played to win his Millennium Falcon.   
As I held them in my hand, an unwelcome memory invaded my mind.   
I was about thirteen, all knees and elbows and too big feet to match my grossly disproportionate ears. My mother had finally agreed to let me grow my hair to try to hid them, and made me slick it back for the gala. I wore my black tuxedo, which was getting to be too small, the sleeves riding up to slow the bones of my wrists.   
My mother shined in the middle of the room in a glittery silver gown, her chestnut colored hair swept on to one shoulder. She laughed and danced, utterly at home surrounded by the politics and old money of upper class society.   
I saw my father exit through a side door and followed, as he made his way to his bedroom he shared with my mother.   
He took his jacket off and hung it over the back of an arm chair before he sat in the matching chair across from it.   
"I hate these things." He said, bending over to unlace his shoes.   
"The gala or the shoes?" I asked and he looked up at me, his forehead puckered.   
"All of it." He clarified. He took one shoe off and dropped it to the carpeted floor with a thud. "To these people I'll never be anything but a scoundrel who married above my level." Another thud as he dropped his second shoe and leaned back, loosening his tie.   
Scoundrel? My dad was everything I wanted to be. I tried to walk as confidently as him, shrug as carelessly as him, and speak as smooth as him. He wasn't a scoundrel, he was my hero.   
"Then, why do you do it?" I wanted to know.   
Han looked up at me. "For your mother." He said, as if it should have been obvious.   
Yes, that should have been obvious. My mother. He'd do anything for my mother. He'd dress in suits he hated, attend parties he loathed, with people he despised, if it meant making my mother happy.   
"Do you ever miss it?" I asked, and Han raised his graying eyebrows. "The smuggling." I clarified.   
"Everyday." He confessed.   
"Then, why did you give it up?"   
Han sat back up and leaned forward, putting his knees on his elbows. "Someday, kid, when you're grown, and you've left and you're on your own, you'll have all these ideals of what you believe life is about. And, you'll think you're happy, living your life the way you think you've always wanted. But, then, if you're lucky, you'll meet someone who makes you realize all your ideals are bullshit, and she'll deflate your ego and call you out on all your selfish double standards, and you won't be able to imagine your life without her."   
I made a face. "That doesn't sound very lucky."   
"You say that now." He said, softly. "But, if you're really lucky, you'll willingly walk away from something you love," He reached into the pocket of his dress slacks and pulled out his golden dice. "To something you love even more." And tossed them across the room to me.   
My spine prickled, bringing me out of my memory, and I looked up, knowing I'd find her.   
She met my gaze unflinchingly. I should have been angry. Anger was familiar to me. Comforting even. But, as the door closed, and she faded from my sight, I realized exactly what my father had been talking about all those years ago.   
I didn't want what I'd worked my life for, the title I'd just killed for, the power or the throne.   
I wanted her.   
Lucky?   
Not exactly the word I would have picked.   
And, as the dice disappeared out of my hand, I curled my gloved fingers around my empty palm, deciding then and there while I didn't know when, and I didn't know how, I'd find a way to be really lucky.


End file.
